


The Time They First Met

by TheZeroMoment



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kid Castiel/Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Fic, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZeroMoment/pseuds/TheZeroMoment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small boy, no older than twelve was looming upside down in front of his vision. His eyes were glowing an alarming shade of cobalt blue, shimmering with a brightness that stood out in the dark grimy cave? Building? He couldn’t tell.<br/>The boy smiled at him, stretching pale skin tight over his skull. It was peeling and littered with what looked like burns, like someone had held an open flame to his cheeks. Scabs and dried blood was clinging to the scars, cracking open and oozing pus when he smiled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time They First Met

**Author's Note:**

> Stupid drabble meant for a best bud of mine for his birthday, but I ended up fogetting this completely so I'm publishing this a month late... either way, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALE!!
> 
> Birthday boy: herfss.tumblr.com

“Stay there boy, you’re on watch.” John grunted at him, shoving Sammy’s shoulder to get him to start walking back into the overgrowth with him.

“Yes sir.” Dean nodded slightly, just the tip of his chin at Sam so  he would top being so bloody headstrong for half a minute and just do as Dad said while he stood in the midst of the tiny clearing, alone; the midwinter chill already leeching heat out from his skinny arms, covered only by his thin flannel. He had given Sammy his jacket.

 

The leaves and branches rustled in the icy breeze and suddenly, he was alone.

Everything was still, the snow which caught the weak sunlight in an odd way, making it dull and lifeless was disturbed by the feet of his father and brother and whatever they were hunting this week. He couldn’t feel his toes.

He shifted, turning his back on where his family had disappeared and faced the mass of forest, laid out in front of him like a map, winding trees with jagged claw marks from a monster and frosted grass that crunched underfoot like a nose under a fist. The sky was clear and cold, a steely unforgiving grey with wicked looking clouds which loomed on the horizon ominously, waiting to strike.

 

He let out a sigh, watching his hot breath swirl up and disappear in the thin air just past his nose for a moment before he heard a shrill whistling, faint at first, making his hand instantly go to the silver knife sheathed in his belt; it was his first instinct to go for this blade instead of his gun because it was easier to hold, calming for him, he had stolen this one from a changeling nest last year and it had been his favourite ever since.

 

The whistling was getting louder, making his ears pop and ache and for him to long to cover them with his frozen fingers but he needed to be aware of his surroundings. Dad would be pissed at him if he wasn’t doing his job properly; if he didn’t stay exactly where he was.

 

Yet when the shrieking grew in shrillness and intensity so his skull felt like it was being split in two and every bone in his body from teeth to kneecaps ached, he turned and shouted for his Dad, for Sammy, turning and fleeing, his head grew heavier and limbs grew sluggish with intense pain as he ran, but he didn’t let that stop him. Something was after him, something he’d never encountered before; it was screeching at him because Dean had obviously invaded his home, violated him in some way.

 

His breathing was laboured, feet pounding on the squishy wet leaves under them before he stumbled, slipping.

He hardly felt the pain in his temple as it hit hard against the skeletal tree roots, ringing in his ears blinding him from every other sense; vision dark and fingers numb and unfeeling with cold.

 

He didn’t know how long he lay there, only that it could’ve been hours - his memory didn’t quite catalogue it, but he realised slowly that he wasn’t cold anymore. He was wrapped in soft warm heat that seemed to bury itself under his skin and stroke his insides with soothing touches. He couldn’t be still in the forest then, no, the air was stodgy, thick and still, completely unlike the thin icy air of the outdoors and he couldn’t smell the damp earth under his cheek. Instead the smell was musty, indistinguishable but decidedly bitter and metallic. Blood. His own, probably.

 

God, his head ached.

 

He groaned, god his head killed, and tried to lift his heavy arms to rub at his face, and instantly felt something loosen its hold on him, shifting under his shoulders and head. Dean stilled himself, very aware of the fact he might be being held down by someone, and slowly opened his eyes.

 

The sight that met him wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.

 

A small boy, no older than twelve was looming upside down in front of his vision. His eyes were glowing an alarming shade of cobalt blue, shimmering with a brightness that stood out in the dark grimy cave? Building? He couldn’t tell.

 

The boy smiled at him, stretching pale skin tight over his skull. It was peeling and littered with what looked like burns, like someone had held an open flame to his cheeks. Scabs and dried blood was clinging to the scars, cracking open and oozing pus when he smiled.

 

Dean called out in horror, scrambling into a sitting position and shoving the boy away, who’s smile fell from his face slowly, mechanically like it wasn’t there properly. His brow furrowed.

 

“Where the hell am I? What do you want?” Dean grappled around him for anything he could use as a weapon against the boy. God, he was the same age as Sammy yet he looked so broken, so used and old beyond his years, and that was just from the shadows under his sparkling eyes that he made out in the dim light.

 

The small boy shuffled closer on his knees, making a scraping heavy noise echo off the walls surrounding them. He reached out a small hand to Dean’s face, resting his soft fingers against his cheeks still stubbornly chubby.

 

“You are injured.”

 

“What the-” Before Dean had the chance to shove the kid away, he had pressed his fingers to his forehead and the skin under his temple prickled and the dull throbbing pain that had been there faded and vanished.

 

Now the boy was closer, leaning over him slightly, and Dean had a clearer head without the banging pain, he finally noticed what seemed to be dragging behind the boy; a set of large, sleek and shiny feathered wings, bigger than himself easily, grown crooked and folded back in an odd display of submission, were torn through his muddy t-shirt leaving blood stains on the cotton and matting the plumage.

 

Dean exhaled sharply and his eyes widened, watching the boy as he cocked his head to one side and smiled at him robotically again.

“How… how do I get out of here.” He demanded to know of the strange creature, who sat back upon his heels.

 

“There is an entrance to the cavern some half mile in that direction.” He gestured into the darkness. “Although why you should want to go back to that insane demon chase I have no idea.”

 

“What do you know of the demons?” Dean spat, narrowing his eyes and raising his fist to grab at the front of the child’s shirt.

“I know more than you can begin to comprehend, Dean.” He in turn raised his hand up to grip Dean’s wrist, holding him tight and vicious, as so no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t loosen his hold.

 

“What the hell are you?” He breathed, after attempting and failing yet again to snatch his hand out of the grasp of the small boy.

  
“I am Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord and I suggest you be on your way, Dean Winchester. We will meet again soon.” And with that, his wrist was free and the boy, feathered wings and all, vanished into thin air with just the hint of metallic blood and gentle breath to hint that he was infact there. 


End file.
